Cote D'ivoire
by onedaymytardiswillcome
Summary: Flying a spy to Northern Africa proves just as exciting as Arthur had hoped
1. Chapter 1

'Mum! Mum!'

Carolyn sighed as she looked up, pulling her reading glasses from her face. 'Yes, dear heart?'

'Mum, this is BRILLIANT' Arthur was excitedly bouncing round the porta-cabin, attempting to tidy but, as always making more mess than there was to start with. Carolyn watched her son, exasperated. He was like a rocket when he got this excited. Indeed until he was about six, she thought she may really have given birth to a rocket.

Arthur was still babbling,' I mean, a REAL SPY. On our aeroplane. Wow. Will he be in disguise? Will he be,' Arthur put his hands together to make a pretend gun, 'the man with the golden gun! Will he have a hat?'

Carolyn, used to her son's excitement, had gone back to her paper work; bank statements, and worrying bank statements at that. 'Probably darling, but not as good as yours.'

Arthur could not remember being this excited and that, for Arthur, was a big deal. For the sake of her sanity Carolyn had left telling Arthur the news that they would be flying a member of MI6 out to Northern Africa until the very last moment. His reaction had been worse than she had feared. Carolyn had not seen him this excited since he had realised that the 'Lady on the stamps' was a real person.

'What's his name agai...whoops!' Arthur had just dropped a very large pile of papers everywhere.

'Arthur! Do calm down and do try to be careful.' Carolyn left her calculations to hurry around the desk and kneel with Arthur to tidy up the avalanche of flight plans, weather reports and financial statements. 'His name is Mr Grey. And you cannot be this excited when he arrives, Arthur. The government is paying us a lot of money to fly him, and to, God help us, be professional.' She put a lot of emphasis on the last word.

'Mumm,' Arthur said smiling. 'Of course I will be professional. I've got a hat.'

Before Carolyn could say the obvious, the door to the crew's porta-cabin opened letting in a blast of cold winter air that knocked all of the now tidy papers back into a muddle.

'Now now,' came a drawling voice,' I know you are in awe of me but, really there is no need to kneel at my feet.'

Carolyn shot a look at Douglas that could well have killed a lesser man. 'Less of the smart comments please, First Officer. Now, help me to my feet.'

'By all means,' as Douglas lent down and helped Carolyn back into a more dignified position Arthur suddenly stopped tiding, gazing at the piece of paper in his hand. His eyebrows knotted, and he looked down confused, 'Mum? What's going 'to be repossessed'?'

'Arthur! Give me that and give me that now.' Carolyn nearly shouted, urgency plain in her voice, as her face went pale.

'Sure,' shrugged Arthur, who has already lost interest. Douglas eyed Carolyn suspiciously, but her thunderous face clearly signalled that the conversation was closed. Douglas had learnt, over many years, and many incidents that a cross Carolyn was not someone to push.

The First Officer threw himself into the arm chair in the corner of the cabin. He had insisted upon it years ago when he first started with MJN; everyman needs somewhere to read his paper. 'So, he here yet?'

'No not until four...Arthur keep tidying, it will help to contain your excitement!'

'Sorry Mum.'

Douglas looked aghast. 'Not till four! But you told me to be here for three and thus here I am...'

'... At three thirty. Yes, I did because we cannot delay Mr Grey at all, and I did not want to take the risk of you sauntering onto the plane late, as you always do.'

'So where is Martin?' Douglas looked around as though the Captain might be hiding somewhere in the tiny cabin, 'late?'

'No, I told him to be here at 4.'

'But that's not fair!'

'Douglas,' Carolyn breathed, 'Martin couldn't be late if there were an apocalypse on the M42. (Arthur, put your hand down! we are all too well aware that you know what that word means now, thank you) You Douglas, on the other hand, were probably late to your own birth.'

'Not late, never late. Politely timed I would prefer to say. Why are you so worried about this chap anyway? Don't tell me it's because he's a spy'. The last syllable was dripping in sarcasm.

'No, I'm not Arthur! No, it's just the government is giving us rather a lot of money and they may give us more contracts and well, we could use the mon...' But she cut off there. 'And it's none of your business. I can tell you to arrive whatever time I like. As it says on the tail, it is MY Jet.' Carolyn blushed a deep red.

'Sorry, mighty ruler, it was wrong of me to ask.'

Carolyn said nothing, returning to her desk and papers. Douglas stood up 'well, seeing as we have an hour I will just...stay here.' He threw himself back into the chair, deciding that no cup of coffee was worth the pain the look Carolyn just gave him implied. There was a moments silence as two of them sat in thought and Arthur sat in excitement.

'Arthur! If you do not stop that infernal tapping I will throw you from this Cabin.'

'Sorry Mum' Arthur stopped taping his feet, 'I'm just so excited!'

'Arthur,' Douglas sighed. 'When are you not excited?' Arthur went silent for a moment at that.

'Well...'

'It was a rhetorical question dear.' Carolyn muttered sharply. 'Oh, for God's sake, find something to do. NO, not tidying; something you can do _without_ parental supervision.'

Douglas reached into his pocket,' I know, Arthur. Catch.'

Unbelievably, Arthur did so, and gazed in wonder at the object now in his hand. 'Wow, a Rubix cube, thanks Douglas.'

'No problem, I can't do the infernal thing any way.'

'Something that you CAN'T do Douglas. Are you sure?' Douglas batted away Carolyn's sarcasm. 'No time for that sort of thing. Go for it Arthur. It's a childs toy anyway.'

'But I'm not a child.' Arthur had started clacking the squares round the cube.

'Arthur, what did you get for your Birthday last week?'

'Guess Who and Harry Potter 7. The film though, not the book. It's brilliant.' And so he had. They had all spent the evening at the Knapp-Shappy residence watching Harry Potter while Arthur ate more sugar than an adult male should consume in a year. Unfortunately, an unseasonable amount of snow had kept them all confined for an impromptu sleepover which Arthur had also, unsurprisingly, found brilliant.

'You see my point?' Carolyn stifled a giggle.

'Yeah, but it would be silly to ask for things I didn't want.' Douglas sighed at Arthur and opened the paper.

All went quite again as Arthur concentrated, tongue stuck out, on the little cube. Carolyn looked at her twenty-nine year old son, sat cross legged on the rug concentrating on a toy and sighed. She really did love him.

While she was distracted watching Arthur, Douglas gently turned the top piece of paper on her desk and read it once. It was the one Arthur had noticed. A flash of worry crossed his face but, before he could so much as open his mouth, the sound of wild running came from outside the door on the runway. In barrelled a small, very red faced man, panting, who toppled straight over the seated Arthur and landed with a thump, sprawled on the floor. 'OW!' Martin hastily picked himself up, placed his captain's hat back on his head, and spluttered 'Am I late? I'm late. Oh God what's the time?'

'Calm down Mr Wolf!' Carolyn shouted over his ramblings. 'You're not late. He isn't even here yet. Oh Martin, your lip!' Martin dabbed a hand gingerly at his face and it came away bloody.

'Oh, Okay. Sorry Arthur.'

'S'Okay Skip. It'll only be a little bruise. And at least it wasn't my right leg' He was rubbing his shin where Martin had barrelled into him. To the quizzical look Martin gave him, 'well that's my stronger leg and what if I needed to play football?' He said it like it was the most obvious explanation in the world.

'Arthur, you have never played football in your life...' Before Arthur could respond to his Mother, the phone in the cabin rang.

'Yes,' Carolyn had picked up the receiver. 'Yes of course, Mr Grey, we will be ready for takeoff in half an hour. Something to carry? Yes, yes, I will send a member of the cabin crew to help. Of course. Goodbye.'

She placed the phone down, her face grave. 'Right Gentlemen and Arthur, this flight is important. We are _not_ going to mess it up, understand. No games, no emergency landings, no poisoning the passengers' ('that was one time Muuum') 'and NO getting too excited. I'm looking at you Arthur and Martin.'

'What, me over excited, Carolyn please,' Martin stuttered.

'Martin, please, you have called me every day for the last week to check that you aren't going to be late.' Douglas snorted but Carolyn ignored him. 'Now, look professional, and most importantly, look normal.' She gazed at her crew; one of whom was holding a Rubix cube, still rubbing his shin, one who was bright red, with his Captain's hat fixed at a jaunty angle on his head and a bleeding lip, and one, leaning nonchalantly against the wall, a smug smile on his face. 'God help us.'


	2. Chapter 2

Martin looked in the shiny, reflective surface of the cockpit cupboard and groaned. The one day he really needed to look smart, and all he managed was looking like a very short, tubby rugby player. The cut on his lip was now red and swollen, not to mention sore. It made him look even more like a pretend pilot than he normally did. Just then his phone buzzed in his pocket. He took out the Nokia, flashed up the text message, and groaned again; 'bloody hell!'  
'Something the matter Martin?' Asked Douglas, as he ducked through the narrow doorway into the cockpit (Martin was always jealous of that stoop to get through the door, he had never had to do the manly stoop in his life.) Douglas climbed carefully in to his co pilot's seat and started prepping the plane for takeoff.  
'No. Nothing,' Martin growled. Douglas cast him a sideways glance  
'Lip looks sore. And I have never seen you so attached to that mobile than you have been in the last week.' He commented lightly. Luckily Carolyn chose that moment to burst onto the flight deck, 'He's coming. Nearly here. Arthur has gone to pick him up. Is everything ready? Flight plan OK? You two settled?'  
'Good. Also good. Arthur, really? Ready. Ok. And since when have you cared if we are comfortable. God knows, that would be a miracle on this plane.' Douglas answered each question in turn much to the annoyance of his boss.  
'Yes, Arthur. It would look strange if one of the Pilots went to carry his luggage and Arthur promised me he would be normal'.  
Just then they heard the sound of Arthur being normal. 'This way then "Mr Grey'' He said the name after a pause and in a very conspiratorial manner. 'It is a real pleasure to welcome you onboard this onboard experience. We hope you have an enjoyable flight do let me know if there is anything that myself can do to facilitate yourself during the period of aviation... a Spy, a real SPY. WOW.'  
'Can you please stop saying my name like that young man? I fail to see what is funny,' came a clipped response. The voice was deep and could have rivalled Douglas' for manly tone. Carolyn rolled her eyes and went to assist; 'yes thank you Arthur...'  
Douglas flicked a few more levers, 'I'll do take off then?'  
'Yes, fine' Martin was distracted and clearly hadn't concentrated on the question. He slipped his phone away onto his pocket after typing a hasty response.  
'You going to try and give this one your CV too? That went sooo well last time.'  
'Uhuh. Wait, what, noo! Though, being a spy, can you imagine?!' Martin was concentrating now, looking at Douglas like a small boy at Christmas.  
'No, never thought it would be for me really,' Douglas stretched in his seat, preparing to fly. 'You have to pretend to be someone else, and why would I want to do that?'  
Martin grumbled something rude through gritted teeth.  
'Plus, I'm sure it's not as exciting as all that. I mean, case in point, this poor sods flying MJN!'

Carolyn was busy, having shoved Arthur hurriedly into the galley, showing Mr Grey to his seat. He was not a very responsive man. 'And if you need anything, anything at all, just let me know.'  
'Thank you,' was all he responded shortly, already distracted by the papers he had pulled impressively from his brief case. Carolyn took the opportunity to look at her latest passenger. He did certainly appear the part. A big man with wide shoulders, he looked like he would win in most fights. His hair was cut close to his head, receding in a manly, rather than an old age way, from his temples. His brow was set and his suit sharp. Carolyn may even have admitted to herself that he was rather attractive. Not, you understand, that she would even admit that to anyone, especially not Herc.  
Mr Grey looked up sharply and caught her looking. Turning red she spun on the spot and practically fled back behind the curtain to the galley.

Arthur got barrelled into for the second time that afternoon. 'Ow. Oh hi Mum. You ok, you look a slightly funny colour? He really looks like a spy doesn't he?' Arthur's eyes were wide with excitement.  
'What, oh yes. Arthur what were you doing in here, you scared the living daylights out of me?'  
'Nothing. Just watching.' Carolyn pushed a stray hair back from her face and exhaled 'Yes, well, don't lurk in future; I would rather die another day thank you.  
Right, go and serve him a drink for takeoff Arthur. And for god's sake, be normal!'  
Arthur, excited by the opportunity to go and talk to Mr Grey again, hurried to get the drinks tray. As he sidled up to Mr Grey he could barely hide his massive grin. 'Drink 'Mr Grey'?'  
'Yes please young man. A diet coke.'  
'Rightho 'Mr Grey'.'  
Mr Grey sighed and looked up at last. 'Why are you saying my name like that?' he said with a disparaging tone.  
'What way?' Arthur asked innocently.  
'And do you have something in your eye?'  
Arthur looked confused. 'No that's a wink 'Mr Grey''  
'And why, pray tell, are you winking at me young man?'  
Arthur looked straight into the big man's eyes 'Well, obviously that's not your real name.'  
Mr Grey simply gazed back uncomprehending. 'You know, that's you spy name.'  
'No, young man, that is my name.'  
Arthur, thoroughly put out, screwed up his face thinking;' but that's really boring. You will be telling me that you don't have an exploding pen next.'  
Mr Grey sat silently for a moment simply staring at Arthur. Without a word he went back to his paper work. Arthur refused to move. 'Is that in code?'  
'No.'  
'Not even a little bit?'  
'No'  
'Well I bet its really top secret spy stuff.'  
'No, it's my electricity bill. Now please go away.'

'He's not a spy.' Arthur banged open the door of the cockpit dispiritedly, carrying coffee for the pilots. They had been in the air for an hour or so and were holding a steady altitude over Northern France. Arthur placed the tray down and stood between the two pilots gazing out of the window. 'We nearly there yet?'  
'No Arthur, not for ages.' Arthur looked so disappointed that Douglas decided to take pity on him. 'I know shall we play a game?' Martin groaned. 'What about countries of the world alphabet. That's an easy one.'  
'Oh yes please.' Arthur lent down on the back of Douglas' chair. There was a pause as they all listened to a weather report from ATC (scattered clouds), then Douglas cleared his throat and started, 'Argentina.'  
Martin chipped in there 'Brazil'  
'ummm. Ummm,' Arthur scratched his head, proving evolution to be true on one small movement. 'There must be one..C..C...Kuala. No that's K.'  
Douglas rolled his eyes. 'While you think Arthur, what did you mean 'he's not a spy?' I'm fairly sure he is you know.'  
Arthur looked relieved to be let off from the game that was out foxing him. Instead he pulled out the Rubix cube and started slotting the pieces around. One side was nearly all green. 'Noo he's not. Mr Grey is his real name! And he doesn't even have any gadgets. I watched him for ages, he even clicked his pen three times and nothing happened.'  
Martin laughed, 'what were you expecting Arthur, a man with a golden gun?' Arthur thought for a moment, they could see the cogs working.  
'No, just someone a bit cooler.'  
Carolyn walked in. 'If that man were any cooler, he would be ice,' She put on a deep voice 'No. Yes. Thank you.' Those are the only four words he knows!''  
Douglas glanced round at her, 'What's got your riled?'  
'Mum fancies him.'  
'Arthur!' Carolyn rounded on him, 'I do not 'fancy' anyone ('Not even Herc?' Martin chipped in) and even if I did, I would not fancy that rude, obnoxious man.'  
Douglas laughed,' you do, don't you. The manly man is apparently your thing. Under the impression that he could be the spy who loves you?'  
Carolyn snapped,' oh do be quite.' But you could barely hear her over the sound of raucous laughter. 'Oh for crying out loud this is an aeroplane, not a comedy show. Grow up, all of you. Arthur, go and make supper.'  
'Okay Mum. 2 minutes, 1 minute, 4 minutes?'  
'Surprisingly Arthur, that's right.'

Both Shappies left the flight deck, leaving Martin and Douglas still sniggering like naughty school boys. As their laugher died Martin, an errant curl sticking up from the side of his head, turned to Douglas and asked, 'Got any of that French chocolate left from last trip? I fancy a little aperitif.'  
'I believe you mean hors d'oeuvre. The Milka? Yes, I think I do. Top of my bag, can you grab it; I'm somewhat busy flying a plane.'  
Rolling his eyes, Martin stood, stretched and walked to the flight deck cupboard. As he pulled out Douglas' flight bag and riffled through it for the bar of chocolate something caught his eye, ' Douglas what's...wow?' Martin had pulled out a sparkling bracelet. He held it up to the light, inspecting it closely. The jewels glittered in the cockpit sun; there were a lot of them. 'Who the hell is this for, cause, thanks, but it's not really to my taste?'  
Douglas gestured for it 'Thank you Cynthia, but it's not for anybody. I got given it back.' He spoke in a clipped tone but still Martin, oblivious as always, continued.  
'Who gave this back?'  
'Helena.'  
The flight deck went very quiet, like the start of a storm. 'Yes, thought I might get that response.'  
'Douglas, I'm sorry I shouldn't...'  
'No, it's fine. You didn't give it back. She did it this morning. We had a meeting with the lawyer, things got a bit messy and well, she said she didn't want any reminders. Bit rich if you ask me, given that she was the one who slept with Hoi Min.' He saw Martin's confused expression and added, 'The Ti Chi teacher.'  
'So she gave it back. Silly if you ask me, clearly doesn't know how much it's worth, how much I was willing to spend...I got it in Moscow that time.' Douglas went quiet for a moment and then said sadly, 'from Russia with love.'  
Douglas trailed off looking sadly at the item. As always when things got 'personal' Martin had no idea what to say. He floundered around like a confused sloth for a moment, clutching at the Milka.  
'Chocolate?' He plumped for after a minute's deliberation.  
'How kind,' Douglas said, his sly smile returning. 'Offering me my own food.'  
'Sorry,' Martin mumbled.  
'About the food, or Helena?' Douglas gave a wry laugh devoid of humour. 'Well you know what they say, live and let die.'  
Martin though for a second as he retook his Captain's seat. 'Live. Live and let live.' He corrected.  
'Not in this case,' said Douglas bitterly. But Martin knew he was joking. Sadly, he was well aware that whatever Douglas said about his nearly-ex wife, he really did love her and was, against everything the First Officer stood for, upset by her betrayal.  
To try and lighten the mood, he asked 'What is it worth?'  
'More than you,' quipped Douglas, but his lighter tone was back and so Martin let out a quiet sigh of relief. 'But you know what they say; diamonds are forever, so I thought it was worth it. Clearly we had different concepts of forever.'  
Martin saw the thunderous look return to Douglas' face and decided it was best to drop all topics and simply let the First Officer 'fly some plane' for a bit. Douglas placed the bracelet in his top pocket and the cockpit sunk into a slightly difficult silence.


	3. Chapter 3

Arthur was cooking. Well, Arthur was supposed to be cooking. Really he was congealing food while concentrating on his Rubx cube. 'Red to that side, green along, red back...' he was muttering to himself when the familiar BEEP BEEP of the onboard phone went off. 'Hi Mum', he stuck the phone between his shoulder and his ear while he continued to turn the sides of the cube.  
'Arthur?' her tone was dangerous.  
'Uhuh,' he wasn't concentrating. He nearly had all the reds, nearly...nearly.  
'Where is Mr Grey's supper?' Arthur's silence spoke volumes. 'Idiot boy, how long has this one been resting.'  
'About 10 minutes,' Arthur mumbled, reluctantly putting down his toy and rushing to the microwave.  
'Well, hurry up. Honestly, you are such a child! Heat it for two more minutes and serve. And prey you don't poison him. God, your cooking has a licence to kill, honestly!'  
She clicked the phone back into place and Arthur could hear her speaking platitudes to Mr Grey in the cabin. Arthur carefully lifted the pie out of the microwave using the fire gloves and tipped it onto a plate. It really didn't look like much even he would admit. If only Mum would let him cook his own food. Honestly, he knew his 'peanut seafood surprise' had been a mistake and he admitted that. But, really his green platter had been rather successful.  
Sighing he passed through the curtain to deliver the tray to Mr Grey. The big man nodded thanks as Arthur put the food down in front of him.  
'Pie' said Arthur proudly. The spy nodded. 'Cooked Pie,' said Arthur again. Mr Grey didn't look up. 'Cooked it myself.' Still no response. Arthur folded his tall form into a seat across the aisle and took out the cube again.  
'You don't say much. I mean, I know some people are quiet but you hardly say anything. Surely you have to be good at talking to be a spy, especially for negotiating. Yeah, Mum told me what you are doing in...Where ever we are going. It's brilliant. Are you really going to free those people? WOW'  
Mr Grey finally looked up.' Arthur? That is your name?' Arthur nodded. 'Well Arthur, do you know anything about spying? '  
'I've watched all the James Bond films. Twice. And watched all nine series of Spooks,' Said Arthur proudly.  
'Boy, do you know anything about REAL spying?' he asked a vein pulsing in his temple. 'Sorry, but everyone assumes that it's all fast cars, and gadgets and killing people. But here I am on a tiny aeroplane on the way to god knows where to negotiate with people in a language I don't speak...'  
Arthur chipped in then, 'Oh I find miming generally works.'  
Suddenly, Mr Grey was laughing. A big, kind laugh. His face softened and he smiled at Arthur. 'I like you boy,' he sighed when he finally stopped. There was a pause as he placed his napkin carefully across his lap, and then 'So this is your job, eh? Looking after grumpy middle aged men like me.'  
Arthur looked up proudly, 'Yep, brilliant isn't it!'  
Mr Grey studied the boy and could tell that he was being deadly serious. 'But what do you want to do later on?'  
'Later...well this!'  
'Forever? That other woman, she is your mother. You really want to work with your Mother for your whole life?'  
Arthur was genuinely confused by the question. 'Well, yes.'  
'But, don't you want a proper job,' Mr Grey, on a roll, failed to see notice the flash of hurt cross Arthur's face, 'that utilises your skills rather more.'  
Arthur went still for a moment and then said quietly, after a lot of thought, 'well, I guess my main skills are being nice to people, friendliness and hovering, so I can't think of a better job really.' And that was true. Arthur had tried some other jobs before he started working full time for his Mother but none of them had gone very well. The job at the library had been a particular disaster. But then Carolyn had won GERTI in the divorce and offered Arthur the Steward Job, and here he was eight years later and happier than he could possibly imagine. It had never occurred to him that he would have to change job at any point.  
'She pay you much, your Mum?'  
'Nooo. Nothing! I don't need it though. She pays my rent and food. Well, I mean, I live with her but not in a weird way. So no, no pay.' Arthur realised that Mr Grey was looking at him as though he was totally mad.  
'My boy, you need to get yourself a job.' The pair sunk into silence, broken only by the clack of Arthur slotting the sides round his cube.

'Golf Tango India, Welcome to Abidjan. Please hold current track and head for runway 4 Beta over.'  
'Rodger that, Abidjan, 4 Beta. Thank you Tower.' Martin swapped comms systems.' Cabin Crew prepare for landing.'  
Martin flicked the plane into landing mode and settled back in his seat. The rest of the flight had passed uneventfully enough though the uneasy silence had persisted between the two pilots. Martin had never seen Douglas like this. He had barely thought the older man capable of emotion but, here he was, slightly crumpled. It made Martin very uneasy.  
'Wheels down?' He checked with the First Officer.  
'Wheels down.' Douglas confirmed. 'Steady angle and sitting pretty.' Martin flew them down into Abidjan airport rather well he thought. Always nervous of landings he probably hit the landing brake a little too hard but other than that, it went without a hitch. The airport was large, made for tourists coming in to the country for beaches and sun. They pulled the plane into the parking bay and Douglas spoke over the Coms.  
'Mr Grey, welcome to Abidjan. We do hope you had a pleasant flight.'

Mr Grey did not look as though he had enjoyed a pleasant flight. He was slightly pale and Arthur thought he might be sick.  
'You okay Mr Grey?' Arthur asked kindly.  
'Yes, yes fine. Just not very good at flying.'  
'Neither is our Captain,' muttered Carolyn as she entered the cabin and then louder, 'So Mr Grey what can we do to assist?'  
The two pilots entered behind her, 'Car is on its way Sir' said Martin removing his hat.  
'Good. Good.' Mr Grey cleared his throat and moved clearly into 'business' mode. 'So, as you know, I need to go and collect our delegate and bring him back here to make the transaction. Here', he held up a tough looking sliver suitcase, 'is the negotiation money which can, for laws beyond your understanding, not leave this plane until in the hands of their Government. So, I will be back soon and we will use this plane as 'British soil'.' Putting quotation marks around the last words, he passed the efficient looking suitcase to Arthur, who looked overjoyed to be involved.  
'But we didn't bring any earth!' Cried Arthur concerned.  
Carolyn rounded on her son. 'Arthur, just go and put that somewhere safe and desist trying to be helpful!'  
'Sorry Mum,' Arthur had seen enough examples of his mother being angry to know that now was the time to just do as he was told.  
There was a beep of a car horn from outside the plane.  
'Right, that will be my car. I will be back here at 10.00 hours, please be ready for me and the delegates.' The three remaining MJN staff nodded at Mr Grey who stood and strode importantly from the plane into the African sun.

As the sound of Mr Grey's footsteps faded Arthur re-entered the cabin excitedly. 'Mum, do you think there is a shop in the airport?'  
Carolyn sighed and nodded. 'Yes dear, I think there probably is.'  
'So, can I borrow £7.50?' He gave his mother his most winning smile.  
She sighed again and reached into her handbag. 'You will need to grow up at some point Arthur!' She pulled riffled in her purse and pulled out a handful of coins. 'Anyone got fifty pence?' Douglas provided the extra and the money was passed to Arthur.  
Martin, watching the exchange started to ask 'what's that fo...' but was cut off by both Douglas and Carolyn who intoned together;  
'Toblerone!'  
Arthur pocketed the change and asked 'Do you want one too Martin, Douglas?' The two pilots shook their head as one, but Douglas said 'but we'll come into the airport with you. Should be somewhere we can get a good cup of coffee.'  
'I could make you one for free,' Arthur said, looking confused.  
'No Arthur, you could make us a cup of coffee.'  
With that Douglas turned and headed out of the cabin with Martin and Arthur at his heals. Carolyn, not wanting to be left out, hurried after them, carefully shutting the door of GERTI behind her. The sun beat down on them as they headed down the ramp. It was only eight o clock in the morning but already it was boiling hot and dry. The airport was of a decent size and, by the time they had made their way across the runway into the terminal they were all sweating and red faced.  
'Not sure I want a coffee so much as a bucket of ice,' moaned Martin as they finally made it into the air conditioned building. He pulled off his Captain's hat and wiped the sweat from his face. 'There's the crew cafe, Douglas. I might pop to the duty free with Arthur first though.'  
'Not getting a Toblerone are you, Martin?' scoffed Douglas. Martin simply gave him a withering look and headed off with the almost bouncing Arthur towards the duty free.  
Although it was early, the airport was busy. It was the beginning of the school holiday so it was packed with British families here for the sun and safari. Martin and Arthur weaved their way through the crowds, passed the 'Royal Casino' and into the shop. Arthur had located the Toblerone in about twenty seconds. Martin thought he must have some sort of tracking device or could sniff them out like a blood hound. Arthur was overjoyed to see it was two for the price of one. However, -'but which two?!' The young man was crouched down by the rack his hand outstretched towards the chocolate but frozen. 'I mean, I know I want the white one, because that's the best, but then which other?'  
Martin was losing interest, his eye caught by a rack of sunglasses in a different shop opposite. He never had replaced the ones he broke in frustration in Johannesburg. This shop had so many that surely one pair would suit him. He also considered the text he had received the previous afternoon. 'How about Wednesday' it had read. That only gave him a day to prepare. Arthur was still deliberating; Martin could hear him muttering about the pros and cons of each style.  
'Arthur, I'm just going to have a look at the sunglasses and do a bit of other shopping, Okay. I will meet you back in the canteen.'  
'I'll go ask Mum which she would prefer,' said Arthur getting quickly to his feet. But Martin was gone, heading at some speed towards his new pair of sunglasses.

Jingling the money in his pocket and humming quietly to himself, Arthur headed back to the crew canteen to find his Mother. As he neared the cafe he saw her and Douglas sat in an American Diner style booth. They were deep in conversation, both leaning over the table heads together, and did not see him. Arthur was about to call out and wave, but the familiar drawl of the First Officer and stopped in his tracks.  
'Carolyn, this is really not good,' came Douglas' voice above the noise of the cafe. Arthur stood still; his mother still hadn't seen him. Knowing, that he shouldn't, he sunk down into a crouch, below the level of the booth seats and sidled closer.  
'Yes, thank you Sherlock, I know that!' His mother sounded worried. 'What I want to know is what I can do about it!'  
'Carolyn,' sighed Douglas. 'I know you all have a wonderful amount of faith in me but I am afraid that even I cannot just magic money out of thin air.'  
Carolyn laughed bitterly, 'And here I was thinking that you were like that man with the golden finger. What's-his- name...'  
'King Midas? Yes, because that went so well for him. Show me the figures again.' There came the noise of papers being shuffled and Douglas cursing quietly. 'How did the mortgage even get this bad?'  
Carolyn snorted and said, 'everything I have goes on GERTI and this stupid company.' But she said it kindly, resigned. 'Remember Douglas, this is for your eyes only. I can't be worrying Martin and Arthur with this.'  
'Well they are going to find out when they turn up and we no longer have an aeroplane. That might be a bit of a giveaway.' Arthur frowned. No plane- What was going on? Douglas was speaking still, 'so how much do you need? Is there something you could sell that would give you enough; your car?'  
Carolyn gave a bitter laugh, 'the world is not enough. Or that's how it feels. But that's why this flight is so important. The government contract could keep us a float just for a little while longer... long enough to think of something else.' They fell into silence for a moment.  
'Carolyn, I know I can be a sarcastic bastard but I say this seriously. Give this up before it ruins you. Martin and I will find other jobs somehow and you cannot risk everything for this.'  
'But what else will I do and, more importantly, what would Arthur do. Say I give them the plane and the money, what little there is, from the company. What do I do? Retire? No thank you. And I have Arthur to think of.'  
'Yes, you do,' said Douglas firmly. 'And which is better for him, somewhere to live, or an aeroplane?'  
They both laughed as Carolyn answered, 'you know which he would pick, God love him.' There was a pause, 'come on, I need another coffee.' Arthur panicked that he might be discovered but, luckily for him, the coffee machines were the opposite side of the cafe from him so neither his mother or Douglas noticed him crouched behind their seats eavesdropping.  
Arthur sat, cross-legged on the floor a frown on his face. What had that been about? He thought; clearly it was money problems. Something about the mortgage. What he did understand was that things were bad. Bad enough to have to give up GERTI! He knew Mum struggled to keep MJN going but didn't think they were in that much trou...  
But Arthur's thoughts were cut off there as he noticed he was being watched.


	4. Chapter 4

A child, a little girl at most six, was sat on the floor across from him watching and crying. She was only crying gently, every so often sniffing and wiping a hand across her face. Arthur frowned then, making sure that Douglas and Carolyn would not notice him emerging from his hiding place, stood and walked across the terminal towards her. She watched him the whole way sat, as he had been, cross-legged on the floor.

No one else in the terminal seemed to notice her, too busy making their way to flights and taxis and keeping an eye on their own noisy children. Arthur slowed as he neared her, not wanting to scare the already upset child. She was dressed for holiday, a sun hat on her head and backpack in her lap. Arthur could tell she had just arrived as she was pasty white as only the British could be. Her eyes were red, showing that she had been crying for a while. She sniffed again as Arthur crouched.

'Hallo,' he said softly. 'Are you okay?' He smiled a warm reassuring smile then but the girl's lip trembled and she started crying harder than ever. 'Hey, what's wrong?' Arthur looked around but all the adults nearby had children with them. 'Have you lost your parents?' The little girl met his gaze and nodded slowly. 'Well that's not very good is it?' He smiled again, and this time her crying seemed to abate slightly.

'I know,' Arthur reached into his pocket, pulled out an apple and then, delving deeper, a tissue which he passed to the little girl. She took it tentatively, still not speaking. 'What's your name?' Arthur asked still crouched in front of her.

She sniffed again and then said, so quietly that Arthur had to lean in to hear, 'Lucy.'

'Well then Lucy' said Arthur, standing and holding out his hand. 'I'm Arthur.' After a moment's thought Lucy took Arthur's hand and he helped her to her feet. Her crying seemed to have stopped and she even offered him a half smile.

'Right, um...' In truth, Arthur had no idea what to do now. Douglas or Mum would know, but something stopped him from walking back towards the cafe. He thought of the number of times he had been told to grow up in the last twelve hours and his face set in a determined expression. He could do this. He looked down at the little girl clinging on to him and gave her hand a little squeeze. 'Shall we go and find your Mummy and Daddy?'

_I can do this. I can do this. No big deal. _Thought Arthur as the two of them wound their way, hand in hand through the airport. He kept looking around as they went to see if he could find anyone who matched Lucy's description. But none of the adults did, and none of them looked remotely like they were missing a child. 'Where did you last see them?' Arthur asked desperately. Lucy pointed towards a duty free shop selling hats and summer clothing. They made their way towards it but were not in luck. The shop was empty apart from a bored looking woman behind the desk. Arthur made his way up to her. 'Um hello, excuse me?' she looked up from the magazine she was reading. 'Bonjour?' she said sounding fed up with her very existence.

Arthur was baffled. 'Oh right, _bon_jour. Ca va? And that is all I know. Right, English?' the woman nodded. 'Brilliant. We are looking for Lucy's parents. Have you seen them?' Arthur quickly described the middle aged couple as Lucy had, but the woman just shrugged.

'Maybe.'

Arthur widened his grin, 'Well have you seen them or not?'

'Don't know. Lots of people come in ze shop.'

Arthur looked around the completely deserted shop and then back at the woman.

'You must remember something!' he cried desperately.

Sighing, she pointed in the direction of the central cafe in the airport. 'Brilliant!' Cried Arthur as they set off in that direction. As they passed a rack of hats however, he felt a small tug at his hand. Lucy had stopped and was gazing at the items, obvious want in her eyes. 'Top one?' she said gesturing.

Arthurs obligingly reached it down for her, 'we really should go and find your parents though...' He trailed off as a massive grin spit the girls face. The hat was far too big for her with a floppy rim that covered most of her face. The band around it was red with flowers, matching her backpack. She reached into her bag, riffled for a second, and pulled out a doll and pointed to it. 'Match.' And she was right. The hat she had picked matched exactly that of the doll. Arthur looked down at the girl and then delved around in his pocket for the change his mother had given him for Toblerone. 'Wait here,' he told her.

Carolyn and Douglas had spent the rest of the free time they had in the crew canteen poring over the bank statements, trying to desperately think of 'something, anything to keep this bloody airline afloat!'

'We could always sell Arthur?' Douglas suggested with a sigh as he lent back rubbing his eyes with one hand while taking a swig of coffee with the other.

'Douglas!' Carolyn chastised.

'Yes, sorry, what was I thinking; that would leave us with no Arthur _and_ no money.'

'I just don't know what to do Douglas. Keep the plane and we have nowhere to live; keep the house, no job. And Arthur loves this job!' Carolyn looked, worryingly on the verge of tears, 'and I just don't know what else he could do. And I so enjoy running an airline. It's fun and rewarding and, most importantly proves _that man _wrong.'

Douglas gave a small chuckle. He looked at his watch, 'well I'm sorry Carolyn but even I am really stumped this time. I don't know how to come up with that much cash. Had better go and find Martin and get back to the plane though otherwise we are going to keep Mr Grey waiting.'

'Oh that would be _so_ terrible would it... no you're right, even we shouldn't stand in the way of global diplomacy.' Carolyn didn't try to hide the sarcasm in her voice, but she stood anyway, taking one last sip of coffee. 'I'll go straight back to GERTI and makes sure Arthur hasn't destroyed her in the last half hour, you go and find the mighty Sky God.'

The Sky God in question was in the changing room of T.M Lewin trying on what felt like the hundredth shirt since he had left Arthur. They were all just _not quite right_. It did not help that he was such an odd shape, of course, short and broad but underweight from lack of funds. The Ginger didn't help either. What colour was he supposed to wear? And his hair was always errant no matter how hard he tried to flatten it, like it was trying to draw attention to itself. 'Bloody hell!' He was just tugging what had looked like a lovely shirt, until it was on him, back over his head when he heard a familiar drawl.

'Um, excuse me? Yes... have you seen a pilot? Funny looking chap, short, wearing hat, bit nervous?'

Before Douglas could describe him any further, Martin stuck his head around the curtain and yelled, 'Over here, Douglas.' The First Officer turned and suppressed a giggle. Martin was even redder in the face than normal and half way into, or out of, a dreadful shirt. 'I thought I saw you come in here; what on earth are you doing?'

Martin tugged the shirt back down, 'playing golf. What does it look like?'

'Well, in that shirt, like you are going to a Hawaiian beach party quite frankly.'

Martin looked down; 'too much?' he asked biting his lip in worry causing the healing split to break again. 'Ow.'

'Not if you are Graham Norton on a night out... What are you shopping for anyway? You _hate _shopping. Martin?' But half of Martin's attention was on his phone again while the other half riffled in his pocket for a tissue.

'Oh Martin...do you have a DATE?' Douglas' face lit up in delight.

'What, no!' Martin stared back into the knowing look of Douglas and crumpled. 'Yes, alright I do. Not that it's going to go anywhere. I mean,' he couldn't stop now. 'She wants to go out for dinner "somewhere smart" and you know I don't have that sort of money. And, well, she is way out of my league anyway...' He trailed off.

'Who is she?' Douglas had seated himself on the arm of a chair, passing Martin a tissue from his own pocket- this was Christmas.

'Daughter of one of Mum's friends. We met at Mum's tennis club. Susan.'

'And do you like her?' Douglas asked in his most innocent voice. Martin nodded and then threw himself down into the chair Douglas was perched on, dabbing at his split lip.

'Rather a lot actually and what's worse, is I think that she might like _me._ Well that will all go out the window on the date won't it?' He put on a high pitched voice, 'Oh yes, I have _always _wanted to date a pilot who isn't paid, who lives in a grimy flat share and dresses like John Barrowman on a bad day.' Martin ran a hand through his curls in exasperation.

'Oh the shirt isn't _that _bad.' Douglas sighed. Martin looked up at him, one eyebrow raised. 'Okay, the trick to a good shirt is plain, not too bright and a good fit. There must be something in this shop that will fit even you. Come on, let's get looking. Quickly though, we only have about ten minutes before we need to be back on the plane to fix everything up for Mr Grey.' Martin ignored the jibe and trailed after Douglas through the shop, grateful for the help, even if it had to come from Douglas.

As Martin and Douglas desperately searched the shirt racks of T. M Lewin, Arthur was desperately searching his brain for a solution. He gave Lucy a reassuring smile and she returned it from under the brim of the large hat he had bought her. Arthur remembered how scared he had been the countless times he had lost Carolyn when out and about. She had always dressed Arthur in bright, garish colours and given him strict instructions, but he was always getting lost and always because he had been distracted by something 'Brilliant'; that feeling of not knowing where his mum was, or where he was for that matter. Arthur hated being separated from his Mum even now. Not in a weird way, he just liked spending time with her. He ran a hand through his short brown hair and sighed, maybe he should move out. Did he need to? Arthur had never worried about the fact that he lived with his Mum before, it just made sense. But, he thought back to the conversation with Mr Grey and all the times he had been told to grow up that day and sighed again; maybe it was time. Though, he thought, Mum might not have a house soon apparently so I might not have a choice.

'You Ok?' Lucy was gazing up at him. Arthur realised he had stopped walking, lost in thought; he never was one for multitasking. 'You look sad.'

'I was just thinking Lucy.' He gave her another reassuring smile.

'Bout what?'

'The times I lost my Mum when I was little like you. But I always found her again,' he added hastily. 'After a while the nice voice would come on the tannoy and the shop would ask for 'Arthur Shappy to go to the toy section'. I always knew where that was and...oh!' Arthur slapped his head. 'That's it. The airport can ask your mum and dad to come to you!' He did a full circle on the spot, and then another, and another. 'Sorry, that's just _really_ fun.' Lucy had a go and giggled.

'Anyway, ummm, there,' he pointed. 'Information should be able to do that for us.' He grabbed hold of the little girl's hand again and they trotted off together towards the yellow desk.

'But where could it BE!'

'I don't know'

'But WHERE IS IT.'

'My answer is unlikely to have changed in the last ten seconds, Carolyn.'

'Martin?'

'Don't look at me!'

'So neither of you know?!'

'I think we _may _have ascertained this information, yes.'

'Douglas, one more sarcastic comment from you and I swear to God there will be knives...'

'Of course,' Douglas took a step back from his very angry boss. 'The person you should be asking is the one who took it in the first place.'

Carolyn suddenly looked stricken.

'One Arthur Shappy' finished Douglas.

The two pilots, having finally found Martin a shirt that didn't make him look too short, underweight or ginger, had proceed back to the plane to find Carolyn angry; maybe even gusting a force ten. It appeared that the suitcase full of money had vanished. Carolyn spun on the spot, much like her son was doing in the airport at that very moment.

'Right, it's fine. If you were Arthur, where would you have put it?'

Douglas placed Martin's shopping bag down in the First Officer's seat, 'You may be in the best position to know given your status as his Mother and thus the best one with a shot into the psychology of Arthurs.'

'This is Arthur we are talking about, how on earth is anyone supposed to know what goes on in his mind! That boy once hid a twenty pound note in the toaster!'

She looked around hopelessly. 'Well, I will just have to go and find him. You two stay here, keep looking, don't break anything and for God's sake, stall Mr Grey if he comes back before I do!'

Martin and Douglas both knew it was simply easier to nod.


	5. Chapter 5

Arthur cleared his throat, 'ahem, Hallo.'

The smart looking lady behind the desk looked up. 'Bonjour, how can I elp?' She sounded bored in that way that official people always did. All of them, that is, except Arthur.

'Can you make the airport talk?'

The woman looked blankly at him.

'I'm sorry?'

Arthur was undeterred, ''Can you make the airport talk? You know, bing bong.' He gestured upwards in the vague direction of the speakers, hoping this would help.

'Ohhh you mean the tannoy.' The woman suddenly looked suspicious, 'why?'

'This little lady seems to have lost her parents.' At this moment Lucy stuck her chin above the desk and gave her most winning smile. The woman beamed back, 'why, of course! What are they called?'

There was a silence in which Arthur looked down at Lucy and she gazed back at him and the woman gazed at them both.

'Mummy and Daddy?'

'France.'

'Germany'

'Helsi...bloody hell.'

The two pilots had settled down in the flight deck to wait Carolyn's return, but the steps outside the aeroplane now did not sound like the small woman and her son. There were too many for a start and they all sounded like posh business shoes. The men's fear was confirmed when they heard Mr Grey's booming voice say, 'This is the one gentlemen. Yes, this one...I promise it is a real plane.'

The footsteps proceeded up the metal steps and they heard a knock on the door into the cabin.

Martin went pale and stared at his First Officer, 'what do we do?' He whispered.

Douglas stood, 'just follow my lead.'

Douglas stepped through the aeroplane and proudly pulled open the door on to the steps. 'Gentlemen,' he cried. 'Bonjour! Welcome.' He stepped back and waved four official looking men and Mr Grey into the cabin.

'Please do take a seat,' Martin stuttered at them. The four government men looked slightly non-plussed but seated themselves in the flight seats none the less. There was an awkward pause.

'Well?' Asked one of the suited men in a strong French accent.

Mr Grey looked up at Douglas, 'Yes, please do bring us the money and a small table.' He raised his eyebrows pointedly.

Douglas waved him away, 'Oh but you must all be so thirsty in this heat. Martin, get the drinks trolley.'

Martin, even paler than usual nodded and headed behind the curtain into the galley. Douglas clapped his hands awkwardly, 'So gentlemen...did you have a nice trip?'

Four big, government officials stared back at him silently.

'We are really just ere to make ze deal,' said one, unblinking. 'We do not ave time for zis small talk!'

Just then Martin reappeared with the drinks trolley. 'Certainly not!' Cried Douglas. 'But perhaps a drink first; Martine, shaken?'

'What!' The official looked aghast. 'We are about to do some terribly importate government work and you offer us ze alcohol! What is the meaning of zis?' The last comment was aimed at Mr Grey.

The spy shook his head as he rose. 'Monsieur, I am sure that these gentlemen were just having a little joke. However, I remember now that the money is locked safely away and that I need to fetch it for them. So' he looked very pointedly indeed at Martin and Douglas, 'Shall we?'

Arthur and Lucy both sat crossed legged, with their back against the information desk. Arthur was still clicking squares into place on the rubix cube. Lucy was playing with her doll, mouthing quietly to herself, clearly deep in an imaginary game. Suddenly Arthur had a face full of the doll. 'She wants to know where Mummy is,' said Lucy firmly.

Arthur turned slightly to face the child, smiled his most reassuring smile and said, 'oh I am sure they will be here really soon. The lady only made the announcement a few minutes ago.'

This was true. The woman had sent out a tonnoy message for 'Lucy's parents' to come to the desk, hedging her bets that only one set of parents could have lost a child called Lucy.

'Do you really go on aeroplanes all the time?' Arthur had mentioned that he was a steward to Lucy while they had been walking across the airport. Luck had her doll with its arms spread, flying around her head.

Arthur nodded, 'yeah it's great. We go all over the world and travel and have great adventures. Ones we even had to carry a fire truck in our swimming trunks!' Lucy giggled.

'But, don't you miss home?'

'Naaa. Well, I mean, home sort of comes with me really because Mum comes on most flights. She owns GERTI you see, so quite often she comes with us.'

Lucy's eyes went wide and she placed her doll down. 'So, you mean that you get to spend all the time with your Mummy.' She seemed to be struggling with the idea.

For about the thousandth time that day Arthur felt the need to defend himself, 'Yes, alright I do, but I like it and it's fun and we get on and there is nothing else I would rather do!' He was nearly shouting by the end and Lucy lent back away from him slightly.

'That would be amazing.'

Arthur didn't seem to have heard her, 'and you know what, we have never cared what anyone thinks so why should I start...wait, what did you say?'

'I said that would be amazing.' And Arthur saw that there was no sarcasm in the young girl's eyes, no hidden meaning, and not even any pity. She really meant it. Arthur grinned.

'You know what, it is the best thing there is.'

Just then a female voice behind them said, 'um, yes hello, we are looking for Lucy.'

The little girl jumped up as though on springs and Arthur followed suit, 'MUMMY!' Lucy ran and jumped at the woman, hugging her tight. Lucy's mother was a prim looking woman, thin and clearly fit while her father as wirery but kindly looking with big, thick framed glasses.

'Oh Darling we were so worried! Where have you been?'

Lucy couldn't get the words out fast enough, 'I was with you and then I dropped doll and then I looked down and then up but you were gone and I couldn't see you and I didn't know what to do so I got sad and then Arthur found me and helped me. He is Brilliant!'

Unfortunately Arthur missed this last part as just then another female voice, one ever so familiar had said, 'Excuse me, I need you to make a bing bog and ask for Arthur Shappy, my idiot son!'

'Mum!' Arthur spun round on the spot and caught sight of his Mother, her hair messy and face red, standing at the desk that he had vacated not five minutes before. 'What are you doing here?'

Carolyn could have passed out from relief, 'Finding you, idiot! What does it look like?'

'No Mum,' said Arthur seriously, 'you don't understand, I have been the one finding people.'

'What? Arthur, I don't have time for this, we need you back at the plane! Where the hell did you put that money?'

But Arthur didn't get a chance to answer because, at that moment, he felt a small tug on his shorts and turned. Lucy and her parents were stood behind him. Lucy tugged on his trousers again so he crouched to be at eye level with the child.

'Thank you.' She whispered.

Lucy's father spoke up then, 'Luc has told us that you have been very kind. You have our thanks, we were so worried.' Lucy's Mother nodded, her hand resting protectively on her child as though terrified of losing her again.

'It was no problem,' said Arthur sincerely. 'We had fun really.'

Lucy's Mother said, stepping forwards and opening her purse, 'let us pay you for the hat by the way.'

But Arthur shook his head firmly and looked Lucy in the eye, 'My treat.' Lucy grinned widely.

Arthur made a move to stand but, just then, Lucy threw her arm around his neck and said, loudly for everyone sanding near to hear, 'when I grow up I want to be brilliant just like you.' Arthur hugged her warmly and then stood. 'Thank you Lucy. But you don't want to do that.' He nodded at her firmly and flicked her ever so gently on the nose, 'don't go growing up.' And with that he smiled at the family one last time, shook Mr Lucy's hand and turned to face his mother. She was stood stock still, a look of genuine pride plastered across her face.

Speechless for once, all Carolyn could muster was a whispered, 'That's my boy.'

Mr Grey forcefully shoved the two pilots through the curtain and into the Galley. 'What the HELL do you think you are playing at?' He whispered violently, peering back thought to make sure that none of the other diplomats could hear him.

'urh, urh, urh, urh.'

Douglas stepped up to the task, 'I believe what the captain in trying to tell you is that we may have some small problem...'

'Which is?' Mr Grey interrupted but gave them no chance to answer. 'I mean, obviously you do, making jokes in a situation like this! And you,' he gestured at Martin, 'turning up looking like you have just lost a fight. I mean, honestly...' The massive man towered over even Douglas, and looked furious.

'Well you see...'


End file.
